


Queen's Pawn Game

by Gay_Soba



Series: Claurenz Week 2020 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Fictional Religion & Theology, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Racism, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:15:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22372423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gay_Soba/pseuds/Gay_Soba
Summary: Claude let out a low whistle as he crouched to sit on his heels, watching as sheets of rain hit the cobblestone. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”“Yes, it appears that Verdant Rain Moon decided to start early this year,” sniffed Lorenz.“I’m guessing from your reaction that you’re not a fan, huh?”“Why would I be? This type of weather in excess does nothing but muck up the gardens and cause the roses to lose their scent.”“Hah! Spoken like a true Gloucester.” Claude stuck his hand out from under their shelter and watched with a slight smile as the drops collected, then slid off of his skin. “As for me, I kind of like this type of weather. It’s a nice change of pace from where I grew up.”-Written for Claurenz Week 2020, Day Two: Rain
Relationships: Lorenz Hellman Gloucester & Claude von Riegan, Lorenz Hellman Gloucester/Claude von Riegan
Series: Claurenz Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1610464
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	Queen's Pawn Game

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, many thanks to Ari and Montana. I'm glad that we're all in agreement that sometimes *takes a drag from a chocolate cigar* Lorenz deserves to be bothered.

Of course it had to rain now of all times, Lorenz thought miserably. Small streams of water spilled from the leather awning of a vacant stall that he and Claude had taken refuge under in the marketplace just outside of Garreg Mach Monastery. After Raphael returned from the last supply run with a third of the food provisions missing and an eclectic assortment of other junk, Professor Byleth had seen fit to assign the duty to the two of them for the rest of the month. It was supposed to be a quick trip, just pick up some food supplies and deliver a shipment order to the blacksmith. Instead, he was stuck with the biggest upstart on the continent with no convenient way out.

Claude let out a low whistle as he crouched to sit on his heels, watching as sheets of rain hit the cobblestone. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it appears that Verdant Rain Moon decided to start early this year,” sniffed Lorenz. 

“I’m guessing from your reaction that you’re not a fan, huh?”

“Why would I be? This type of weather in excess does nothing but muck up the gardens and cause the roses to lose their scent.”

“Hah! Spoken like a true Gloucester.” Claude stuck his hand out from under their shelter and watched with a slight smile as the drops collected, then slid off of his skin. “As for me, I kind of like this type of weather. It’s a nice change of pace from where I grew up.”

Lorenz’s heart thudded in his ears. When Claude appeared out of nowhere as the new heir to House Riegan, Lorenz’s father had instructed him to find out anything he could to discredit Claude’s claim to the Alliance Leadership. There was nothing to be done in regard to his ancestry since faking the possession of a Crest was impossible and left no room for doubt that he was a descendant of the Elite Riegan, but perhaps a serious conflict of interest, past crime, or a glaring character defect would be enough to shake other Alliance Lords into rejecting Claude’s claim. 

Every time Lorenz had tried to investigate, Claude managed to outmaneuver him with a witty deflection or a charming quip. None of the other information that he heard whispered in the stone halls of Garreg Mach– that Claude was actually the bastard child of a union between Godfrey von Riegan and an Almyran maid, that the Srengians had found some way to replicate Crests by stealing them from those of noble blood, or (Saints forbid) that he was some war time dalliance of the vanished Diana von Riegan- could be corroborated with actual evidence. Yet here Claude was, casually offering information himself.

“... And what exactly is there to like about a downpour of rain?” Lorenz said, trying his best to keep it casual. If he could just keep Claude talking, perhaps he would slip up.

Claude shrugged. “I guess it depends on the kind of environment you live in. In some places, the main grain staple is rice, so a seasonal flood would work wonders for the fields. If you live in a dry region like by the arctic deserts of Sreng, the high plateaus of Dagda, or the arid deserts of Morfis and Almyra, it makes sense that rainfall would become revered as a source of fertility, renewal, and vitality.”

“But why revere the rain itself? Is it not the Goddess who provides for us and blesses us with these miracles of abundance?” Lorenz asked, somewhat irritated that Claude had not only refused to narrow down his place of origin but had brought _Morfis_ of all places into the equation.

“And what about the places beyond Fódlan’s borders? They have their own beliefs about how the world works, and why nature is able to provide us with resources.”

“Claude, this is edging very close towards blasphemy. In the Tenets of Seiros, it clearly states-”

Claude waved his dry hand dismissively. “Spare me the tenet quoting, Lorenz. I overheard your talk with Teach in the Cathedral months ago.”

“The Cathedral..?”

“The one about how you’re just going through the motions of piety and that you only do it to look like a perfect Fódlan noble.”

Suddenly, Lorenz was thankful for the constant noise of the rainfall in the background as he quickly took stock of their surroundings to make sure no one else had heard. “You had no right to eavesdrop on our conversation, Claude von Riegan,” Lorenz said lowly, his face burning with equal parts anger and mortification.

“Then pick a better place to have such an incriminating conversation, rather than the largest public cathedral on the continent.” Claude turned his full gaze upon Lorenz, his eyes as bright as a spring afternoon despite the gray lowlight. “What you said to Teach only confirmed a hunch I’d had for a while. Before that, there were a few other things you said that made me wonder if your heart was really in it.” 

Lorenz stood frozen as it sunk in that the man he was supposed to be gathering information on had just turned the tables in the blink of an eye. Of course he had his doubts about the preachings of the Church. How could he not? It was full of flaws and contradictions, like how the hierarchical Crest system persisted within the supposedly pious nobility despite the Goddess grieving over her blessings being used to wage war and oppress the Crestless. Or how power was passed on through bloodlines regardless of how unworthy and incapable a person was of wielding it, just because the Goddess had blessed their ancestor. 

But those thoughts were not befitting of a noble. So he kept his doubts to himself, clasped his hands together in prayer, and went through the motions as was expected of him.

“Was it obvious?” He asked quietly.

Claude raised his eyebrows and stood up to brush the dust off the hem of his uniform. “Not really. Like I said, it was a bunch of small things here and there, so I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

“... I see.”

“You know, it’s not a bad thing to question the way things are done or what society believes to be true. The fact that you’ve even managed to question this much is pretty admirable in my opinion.”

Lorenz scowled. “Do you honestly expect me to take that as a compliment?”

“You? Not at all,” said Claude as he unpinned his half cape, draped it over his head, and picked up his shopping bag. “I think I’ve poked enough of your nerves for today, so I’m gonna get going. I’ll be sure to send Raphael with a rain cloak, which means you can just stand there and look uptight for the next hour. You’re good at that. See you back at the dorms, Lorenz!”

Lorenz clenched his fists so tightly that his nails were nearly piercing his palms as he watched Claude run cackling through the storm. _He could have left at any time! Why did he choose to stay and torment me?_ If he were not so dignified he might have screamed. Alone with nothing but his share of the shopping and the steady rhythm of rainfall, Lorenz was left to stew in his anger at not only being found out by his most hated rival but also the brief glow of comfort he had felt from being truly seen by him.

**Author's Note:**

> *Claude and Lorenz reached ??? Level Support*
> 
> Fun fact: A Queen's Pawn Game is a chess strategy that involves 14 moves. Claude speaks 14 times in this story, when you count using closed quotation marks.


End file.
